


The After and the Dawn-Nile

by AlannaofRoses



Series: Old Guard Post Credits [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Aftermath, Conversations, Gay Immortal Parents and Their Adopted Immortal Children, Grief/Mourning, Idiots in Love, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25416985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlannaofRoses/pseuds/AlannaofRoses
Summary: Set between the Pub and going back to Copley, Nile begins to come to terms with her new life. Her new family helps her rest, grieve, heal, and deal with the changes immortality has wrought. Heavily featuring two insufferable romantics, with brief appearances by one newly mortal boss.I have now made this a series of sorts. Each story tells the same events from a different perspective. You do not have to read them in any order or even read all of them.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Old Guard Post Credits [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855519
Comments: 17
Kudos: 482





	The After and the Dawn-Nile

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still trying to get their voices right, so bear with me. I've watched this movie twice now and I'm already planning a third. I fell so hard for all of these characters, Joe and Nicky especially, and I knew I needed to write something for them as soon as possible. I've already got another fic planned for them, so keep a lookout!

They leave Booker standing on the beach.

Nile follows her three companions to the car. She doesn’t understand, yet, but maybe she will someday. She has plenty of time to think about it, after all.

Joe settles into the driver’s seat, telling her they have a safe house nearby, and Nile just hopes these people don’t view distance the way they do time. She can’t wait a hundred miles for a bed.

She is more tired than she can ever remember being. Her body may have forgotten the wounds she’d acquired over the course of the last few days, but her mind remembers. The gunshots, the explosion, the fall. She wonders if it will ever go away, if the memories of dying ever fade. For a moment, she understands Andy a little more.

She wonders what several millennium in this life will do to her.

Joe and Nicky are holding hands in the front. There is blood all over the back of Nicky’s head, dried into his hair. Nile tries hard not to think about the kind of wound that would cause that. The way they look at each other, the way Joe’s thumb is making light circles against the back of Nicky’s hand, it makes something in her chest ache.

She must doze off for a bit, curled in the backseat with Andy, because when she next opens her eyes they are out of London and the view out of her window is all rich English countryside. Within minutes, Joe is guiding the car onto a dirt pathway, and Nile can see a sweet little cottage rising before them.

Joe stops the car and they all pile out, grabbing what few belongings have stayed with them over the multiple moves. Joe says something in what Nile thinks is Italian, and Nicky laughs. It’s the first sound he’s made since the bar.

Andy is pale again as they move towards the house, what little rest she may have gotten in the car obviously not enough to counter the adrenaline crash Nile knows they are all feeling. She makes it two steps into the house before she goes down.

Nile barks out a cry, but Joe is already there, scooping her up before her knees even touch the floor and carrying her to one of the rooms. He gives Nicky a glance over his shoulder as he goes, and they nod in sync.

Nile is going to have to come up with a whole new vocabulary for how romantic they are. She wonders if one of the hundred languages they all seem to speak has the right words. Then she realizes she’s thinking about having the time to learn a hundred languages, and her brain sort of shorts out for a second.

“Nile.” Nicky says, standing in the doorway of the room Joe had taken Andy into. There is a box in his hands. He tilts his head inside. “Join us. We don’t bite.”

“Speak for yourself.” Joe retorts faintly from inside, and Nicky huffs a laugh.

Nile forces her feet to carry her to the threshold. Andy is propped up on at least a dozen pillows, her boots and jacket discarded on the floor. Joe is kneeling by the side of the bed, gently removing the bandages Nile had gotten only a glimpse of earlier. Nicky is digging through the box that he had set on the other side of the bed, and she can already see the fresh bandages and antiseptic cream he has removed.

“Do, uh…” Nile starts, faltering when they all look up at her. “do you know how to patch up a bullet wound?”

Joe snorts, but it isn’t cruel.

Nicky is giving her a patient smile. “Yes. I trained as a medic, and I have refreshed that training every dozen years or so. While we don’t require medical attention, often the people we are trying to save do.”

That makes sense, Nile realizes, and she relaxes. She knows the basics herself, but she’s not entirely sure her hands would be steady enough to do what was necessary right now.

Andy pats the bed beside her. “Come sit down, Nile. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

She might have refused if a wave of weariness hadn’t crested her at that very moment, and almost before she realized what she was doing she was climbing onto the bed and curling up. The feel of her head on the pillow was heavenly. She’d had her doubts about whether she would be able to sleep after the events of the day, but it doesn’t take very long at all. She drifts off to the soft murmur of voices and Andy’s hand in her hair.

When Nile wakes, it is dark. Andy is breathing steady and even next to her, still half propped on the pillows. The bandages peeking from under her shirt at shoulder and waist are cleanly white. Nile feels relief at the sight. Andy had lost far too much blood during the fight.

Of the men there was no sign. Nile was a bit surprised at the blatant trust they’d shown in leaving her alone with their injured leader, but she had seen the almost desperate touches and looks between them since she’d rescued them. She knew they probably needed some time alone to reconnect, reassure the other that they were alive and together.

She was desperately thirsty, and Nile realized she could probably also use the restroom now that she was up. She gingerly slid out of the bed, grateful when Andy barely stirred at her leaving. She cracked the door open and peered into the dim hallway, but the house was silent.

The house was small, traditionally English. It only took her two tries to locate the washroom, a little closet of a thing with just a simple toilet and sink. It was well stocked, though, with soft towels and toiletries that Nile quickly availed herself of, scrubbing the past week from her face and teeth, cupping water into her mouth.

She felt much more human once she was done.

She also realized she was starving.

They had tried to warn her these past few days. Urging her to sleep, to eat, even when she didn’t feel like it. One of the side effects of immortal healing was an immense drain on their energy. Repairing bone and muscle and skin took calories and rest like always. But because they healed so quickly, the need for that rest and food was much more immediate and intense.

Nile had finally gotten some sleep and a chance to wash, and now her body demanded the calories it had spent healing her today.

Problem was, she had no idea where she was supposed to find food in here.

She left the washroom and prowled the cottage on silent steps, taking in the cozy touches spread around the space. She had only known her new companions for a few days, but she could already easily tell that this safehouse was Joe and Nicky’s. The textiles were all soft and generously stuffed, with blankets draped over every possible seat. The colors were warm and light, a space that was inviting. Still, what really gave it away was the defensive accommodations. Every seat had easy sightlines to one or more entrances, and none of them had their backs to windows. Even the way the furniture was arranged would make for easy fighting, especially for those who preferred swords to guns.

Andy’s safehouses would be much more utilitarian, she suspected. Probably more obvious weaponry too, though she suspected there were plenty of deadly tools in this space, hidden though they might be. From what she knew of Booker, he preferred darker colors and far more books. His better safe houses would probably have large TVs too. 

Here, in this space, she felt almost wrapped in a physical manifestation of the love so clearly shared by Joe and Nicky.

It was that thought that undid her.

At that train station, staring at the evidence that Andy was in trouble, Nile had taken her family, the Marines, everything this life would take from her and she had stuffed it in a box. It had let her do what needed to be done, to go back, to kill, to save these people who she had known for such a short time and yet, if things went the way they were supposed to, would be all she had left in less than a hundred years.

Her mother, her brother, her friends, they would all be dead in less than a hundred years, and Nile would still be this.

She sinks into one of the chairs, muffling sobs into her hands as the weight of her choices, of her fate, hits her full force. She thinks of her father’s grave, of the simple dates she’d traced so many times. She thinks of another, next to it, her own birthday written into solid stone.

Stone she will likely outlive too.

She is trying desperately to be quiet, but she still not surprised when a light flicks on. Nicky, at least, seems to have some sort of preternatural hearing, and wherever he goes, Joe follows.

It’s Joe’s arms that wrap around her, his embrace a solid anchor in a world that is no longer familiar. His chin rests on her head, his beard soft against the spaces between her braids. He rocks her, gently, but makes no attempt to soothe her with words. He just lets her weep against him for what feels like hours.

It’s awful. Nile has never felt anything like this, this grief like a living thing, tearing its way out of her throat, her chest. She quickly gives up any thought of suffering in silent bravery. She clutches at Joe’s arm, his shirt, desperate for something to keep her from dissolving under the weight of eternity. He holds her back just as tight, and she has never been more grateful for anything.

Finally her tears slow, the great sucking wound not closed but lessened. Joe still doesn’t let go, just stays until she is limp and quiet against him.

A hand brushes her forehead, and she looks up at Nicky. He smiles sadly and offers her a mug, which she takes gratefully. It’s the best hot chocolate she has ever tasted, and she sucks it down greedily, hardly caring that it burns her tongue. Perhaps there is one perk to being immortal.

Nicky’s hand clasps Joe’s shoulder as he steps away, an easy gesture that seems more instinctual than anything. Still, there is a slight edge to it, and Nile studies them for a moment. Joe’s eyes are darkly shadowed, his face lined with exhaustion and grief. Nicky is little better, something haunted in his gaze.

Nile feels suddenly guilty. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

Joe shakes his head ruefully, reaching out a hand to Nicky, who clasps it tight. “We were not asleep.”

He must read the question in her eyes, because he continues, “We do not sleep well, after.”

After being captured. After being killed. After watching the other die brutally, waiting for them to return.

Nile is not the only one who has suffered today.

“I should get Nile some food.” Nicky says after a moment. “I’m sure you are hungry.”

Nile nods gratefully. She untangles herself from Joe, missing his steady warmth as soon as she is standing.

He rises too, stretching, and moves past them, dropping a kiss just left of Nicky’s mouth as he passes.

Nicky tilts his head towards the far doorway, and Nile follows him into the kitchen.

It is well stocked, shiny pots and pans in tidy rows, dried garlic and herbs hanging over the counters, labelled jars of staples set into the pantry. It’s the kind of kitchen Nile had only seen in magazines, and it amuses her a bit.

Nicky must see it, because he gives her a brief grin. “Joe likes cooking. It calms him. We keep our kitchens well organized, wherever we are. I am not such a good cook, but in this case all I need do is reheat what Joe made earlier.” He takes a container out of the fridge, lighting one of the stovetop burners. “You were already asleep.” He explained, apologetically.

He waves off her help, so she sits on one of the stool at the counter, swinging her legs idly as he stirs something that smells amazing in a shallow pan. By the time he sets the plate before her, she is ravenous again. It tastes amazing, and she almost regrets that she can’t enjoy it more, but at the moment her only thought is to soothe the ache in her belly.

Nicky watches her with faint amusement, and offers her seconds.

She accepts, eating more slowly this time, savoring the taste. She must admit that Joe is very, very good at cooking if this is any example.

Nicky moves around the kitchen, putting away the remaining leftovers and washing out the pan. He is quiet, his movements slow and deliberate. If they were not what they were, Nile would have said he was favoring injuries.

“Are you okay?” She asks, uncertain if the question is appropriate but unable to stay silent any longer.

Nicky looks up. He studies her a moment, his mouth quirking slightly. “Are you?” He counters.

They both know the answer to that. Nile drops her eyes back to her plate.

Nicky sighs, leaning back against the counter. “I was very afraid today. I am worried about Andy now. And I miss Booker.”

“Does, uh, does the exile thing happen often?”

“Not really.” Nicky shrugged. “But there is little punishment that matters to ones such as us. Time apart will give Booker the space he needs to understand himself, and what he truly wants. To think about what he almost lost permanently.”

Nile chewed the end of her fork thoughtfully. “But his leaving hurts you too.”

“Yes.” Nicky answered. “Of course it does. He is family. But we also need space. To come to terms with what he did.”

“But a hundred years?” Nile watched him. “I know Joe is angry, but…”

“You think he is the only one?” Nicky asked.

Nile felt the breath leave her. “Oh.”

Nicky chuckled mirthlessly. “You thought I was the soft one. The forgiving one.”

It was true. Nile should know better than to underestimate any of them, these people who had lived longer than she could even fathom, and yet she had.

“He hurt Joe.” Nicky said. His voice was soft, and yet Nile could hear the steel in it. “He let us get taken. He had no control over what might happen. We all live in fear of what might happen, after Quynh, and he…”

Joe’s arms wrapped around him even as Nicky’s voice broke. They pressed their foreheads together, breathing the same air, and Nile had to look away from the sheer anguish and passion in that embrace.

“Get a room, you two.”

Nile startles at Andy’s entrance, cursing silent immortals and their sneaky, sneaky ways.

“You should be in your room.” Joe shoots back, his tone just as teasing. Still, his face is worried as he moves to Andy, his hands reaching for the bandages.

Andy slaps him away impatiently. “I’m fine. Worrywart.”

“Andy.” Nicky says, low and pleading.

“No.” Andy shakes her head firmly. “You do not get to coddle me over this. Immortal or no, I’m still the boss, okay?”

Joe smiles, a real one this time. “Yes Boss.”

Nile thinks they might be okay. Eventually.


End file.
